


Welcome Home

by mean_whale



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Chance Meetings, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mean_whale/pseuds/mean_whale
Summary: Kuroo has returned to Tokyo after years abroad, when he runs into Bokuto, his ex-boyfriend.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CruelisnotMason](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelisnotMason/gifts).



> In November 2019 (or thereabouts) I briefly had requests open. Cruel requested Bokuto/Kuroo, "Something dorky? Like, they haven't seen each other for a few years, having graduated university and such, and then accidentally run into each other on the streets?"
> 
> This did not turn out dorky at all, oops. But other than that, it's pretty close to the request, I think.

Kuroo had a good feeling. He had been nervous going into the job interview, but his nerves had eased up considerably as it went on. He didn’t want to jinx it, but he was almost certain that the job was his. His feet felt light as he made his way home.

On a whim, he decided to buy a bottle of wine. He could use a bit of unwinding after all the stress of moving back to Tokyo.

He bought two bottles.

He was just stepping out of the store, ready to head home and enjoy his wine, when someone bumped into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the person said.

Kuroo turned his head to tell them it was okay, but the words got stuck in his throat as he found himself face to face with Bokuto Koutarou.

“Bokuto?” he asked, although he already knew it was him.

Bokuto hadn’t, after all, changed radically; he still had the same face, the same eyes, and even though he styled his hair differently, it was still recognisably his hair. Kuroo had also been paying attention to volleyball news, and he was acutely aware of Bokuto playing in the national team. He had watched every game he could, eyes focused on Bokuto and how he was doing. Bokuto’s game had gotten so reliable over the years that every time Kuroo saw him play he was in awe.

“Kuroo?” Bokuto asked in return.

Before either of them managed to say anything else, they had to shift aside from the doorway, apologising to the old man who had wanted to get past. Then their eyes returned to each other, and they were both equally at a loss for words.

“It’s been a while,” Kuroo finally said and smiled nervously.

“It has,” Bokuto agreed.

Kuroo looked at Bokuto and couldn’t help regretting that they had become this: an awkward pair of young adults who used to be best friends, then lovers, and then lost contact completely for years.

“It would be nice to catch up,” Kuroo said.

Bokuto glanced at him. Kuroo bit his lip, hoping desperately that Bokuto hadn’t completely left him behind.

“It would,” Bokuto said then, not looking at Kuroo.

Encouraged by the words, Kuroo asked, “Are you free now?”

Bokuto looked around the street before slowly turning his eyes to Kuroo.

“Yes,” he finally said. “I was just thinking of heading home.”

Kuroo smiled.

“Have you eaten?” he asked. “I just had a job interview and haven’t had much of an appetite because of the nerves.”

“Food is good,” Bokuto said.

Bokuto didn’t seem exactly eager to be spending time with Kuroo, but he did also seem fine with Kuroo taking over and suggesting a place to eat. Kuroo was suddenly very determined to have a good chat with Bokuto and refused to be put off by Bokuto’s lack of enthusiasm.

As they were seated in a quaint restaurant with food in front of them, Kuroo finally admitted that maybe they had drifted too far apart for them to ever be friends again; Bokuto was stubbornly quiet, only answering whatever Kuroo said to him when necessary, using one-syllable answers whenever possible. Kuroo was getting increasingly discouraged each time Bokuto merely hummed or shrugged.

They ate in silence.

“So,” Kuroo then said. “How have you enjoyed playing professionally?”

“It’s cool,” Bokuto said and shrugged.

“Okay,” Kuroo said.

He turned his eyes on his food, prepared to spend the rest of their meal in silence before parting ways, but then Bokuto took in a deep breath.

“What do you even care?” he asked.

Startled, Kuroo looked up at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked in return.

“You don’t really care, do you?” Bokuto challenged. “So why do you keep asking? There’s no need to pretend.”

Bokuto turned back to his own food and started chewing resolutely.

Kuroo stared at him.

“What?” he managed to ask, watching as Bokuto continued eating, eyes firmly on his food now. “Of course I care. You– I care about you.”

Bokuto snorted. Kuroo sighed and put down his chopsticks.

“I do miss you,” he said.

Bokuto shook his head. He was no longer eating but still held the chopsticks in his hand.

“I regret losing touch with you,” Kuroo said. “I wish things had gone differently.”

Bokuto didn’t react in any way.

“I wish I had put in more work to stay in contact with you,” Kuroo said. “I should have made sure–”

“Please, stop talking,” Bokuto said.

His voice was quiet but firm, and Kuroo snapped his mouth shut. Bokuto glanced at him, sighed, and started eating again. Kuroo watched him for a moment before slowly picking up his chopsticks again.

“It’s not all your fault, you know,” Bokuto said quietly. “I gave up.”

Kuroo waited for a moment, but when Bokuto didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Why?”

Bokuto shrugged. Kuroo was glad Bokuto wasn’t looking at him because he was sure the disappointment was clear on his face.

“It was hard,” Bokuto said unexpectedly. “You were so far away and on a different time zone, and that alone was enough to make it tricky. But then we were both so busy too. It was… easier not to keep trying.”

Kuroo wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he stuffed his mouth with food to have a valid reason for his silence. Bokuto quickly glanced at him, but otherwise kept his eyes firmly on his food.

“I guess,” Bokuto said so quietly that Kuroo could hardly hear him, “I also figured it would be fair to let you go.”

“What?” Kuroo asked after swallowing hastily. “What do you mean?”

Bokuto shrugged.

“I just figured,” he said, “it wouldn’t be fair to keep you hanging on a long-distance relationship for years and years when you could just… you know, find someone else.”

Kuroo stared at Bokuto, who was fiddling with his chopsticks, seemingly unable to decide whether he wanted to continue eating or not.

“Someone closer-by,” Bokuto then said. “Someone better.”

“Wait, what?” Kuroo said, trying to follow Bokuto’s train of thought. “What do you mean someone better? Why would someone be better than you?”

Bokuto frowned at his food.

“You know,” he said and waved his hand vaguely.

“No, I don’t know,” Kuroo said.

He placed his chopsticks down again, all his attention now on Bokuto, who kept his eyes glued on his food.

“How was Britain?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo considered him. He had his head bowed down so Kuroo couldn’t see enough of his face to determine anything. Kuroo wasn’t sure if he should let Bokuto change the subject or try to dig deeper into the unexpected insecurity their conversation had uncovered.

In the end, he didn’t want to scare Bokuto away, so he relaxed in his chair, picked up his chopsticks again, and said, “It was nice. Took me a while to get used to everything, but it was nice.”

Bokuto nodded, looking relieved when he glanced at Kuroo again, flashing him a hesitant smile.

“What did you study again?” Bokuto asked. “Biology, right?”

“Biochemistry,” Kuroo corrected him. “It was interesting.”

“A good choice?”

“Definitely.”

The silence that followed was much more comfortable than any before it.

“How have you liked playing professionally?” Kuroo asked again, hoping for a better answer this time.

Bokuto gave him a bemused glance, then shrugged, but his face softened.

“It’s good,” he said. “It’s… nice.”

His face seemed to imply adjectives such as _awesome_ or _fantastic_ or even _the best decision of my life_. Kuroo waited, but Bokuto didn’t say any of it out loud, his cheeks gaining a bit of colour when he looked up to see Kuroo watching.

“How about you?” Bokuto asked. “You mentioned a job interview?”

Kuroo nodded and said, “Yeah. I’m not sure if I got it, but I have a good feeling.”

“So,” Bokuto said slowly. “That means you’re back in Tokyo for good?”

“Yes,” Kuroo said, suddenly too nervous to say anything else.

He watched Bokuto, who was focused on what was left of his food. Bokuto wasn’t eating, so Kuroo assumed he was nervous too. He could only hope it was the same kind or nervousness as his.

Bokuto looked familiar yet different: he had grown older, grown more confident, he had grown into himself, but there was still the underlying essence of Bokuto – the thing that had attracted Kuroo to him back when they were teenagers and was now in the process of attracting Kuroo to him again. Kuroo couldn’t help remembering how good they had been together, how Bokuto’s kisses had always tasted sweet, how their bodies fit so well together as they made love, and Kuroo was suddenly overcome by the deep regret of having let it go, of having allowed Bokuto to drift away from him like that – like it hadn’t meant anything at all.

Bokuto had once meant the world to him, and he now wished that he had worked harder, even as he could feel Bokuto pulling away. He should have realised that it wasn’t because Bokuto wanted out. He should have realised there was something else, something deeper, something grave about it.

“Want to come to my place?” Kuroo blurted out before he had time to think too deeply about it. “I have wine.”

Bokuto turned to look at him. He looked for a long moment, before his face turned determined.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Kuroo repeated. “Okay.”

Their silence felt different as they made their way out of the restaurant and towards Kuroo’s apartment. It felt charged with something Kuroo couldn’t quite identify, and he wondered if it was sexual tension or if it was just how it felt trying to reconnect with an ex.

The silence was only broken after they stepped inside the apartment.

“Sorry, it’s not very organised,” Kuroo said. “I just moved in.”

“It’s fine,” Bokuto said as he took off his shoes.

Kuroo went into the kitchen in search of wine glasses. He was annoyed to realise he hadn’t unpacked them yet and couldn’t even begin to guess which box might have held them. He was peering into the cupboard, trying to decide if he should try opening a few boxes to avoid having to serve wine from mugs, when Bokuto was suddenly right behind him.

“Mugs are fine,” Bokuto said, as if having read Kuroo’s thoughts.

Kuroo wanted to turn, he wanted to see Bokuto’s face, but he couldn’t. He stood there, frozen, as Bokuto reached into the cupboard and pulled out two mugs. Kuroo remained in place for a beat after Bokuto had stepped away, taking with him the warmth of his body. Kuroo’s back suddenly felt very cold. He heard the mugs being lowered onto the countertop.

“Oh, this is fancy,” Bokuto said.

Kuroo turned to watch him peer at the wine bottles. Bokuto turned to grin at him.

“You decide,” Kuroo said.

It all felt strange. They could have so easily slipped back into their old dynamic, yet they were both holding back. Kuroo wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that kept him so careful. Was it just that he worried Bokuto didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? Was it that he was worried they would try but then fall apart completely?

He wasn’t sure, but he did his best to relax on the sofa with his mug of wine in his hand. Bokuto was sitting next to him, yet a respectable distance away, and Kuroo found himself trying to remember when they had last kept such a big gap between them. Even before they had started dating, they were always physically close. Yet now, there was a distance between them, growing into a chasm that Kuroo wasn’t sure how he could ever bridge. Especially because he wasn’t sure if Bokuto wanted to try. It was probably a good sign that Bokuto was there at all, sitting on Kuroo’s sofa and sipping his wine from a mug, but it didn’t have to mean anything. Bokuto might stay there for the night, then leave and never return.

He thought back to their earlier conversation. The way Bokuto had talked about himself had been quietly troubling Kuroo, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up again, if it was even a good idea to do so. The way Bokuto had shut down that particular conversation made Kuroo hesitant to try again. Yet, he knew that he couldn’t leave it be. He had to know what it was that Bokuto had meant.

They drank their wine in silence. Bokuto seemed deep in thought, and Kuroo was trying not to fidget as he watched Bokuto’s pensive face. He didn’t know how to break the silence, so he merely topped up Bokuto’s mug when it was starting to look empty.

The first bottle was nearly empty by the time Bokuto gave a big sigh and turned to look at Kuroo.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What?” Kuroo asked in return, perplexed by the sudden conversation.

“You want to say something,” Bokuto said. “What is it?”

Kuroo took a moment to stare at Bokuto in wonder. After so many years apart, so many years of no contact, Bokuto could still read him so easily.

Kuroo cleared his throat and said, “I was just wondering about what you said.”

“What did I say?” Bokuto asked, now sounding wary.

“You said,” Kuroo said slowly, “that you wanted me to find someone better than you.”

Bokuto’s jaw tightened and he turned to look away. He took a gulp of wine, then looked into his mug, reached for the bottle and emptied it into the mug. He drank that in one gulp, then looked morosely into his mug again.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kuroo said, when Bokuto remained quiet.

Kuroo turned to look into his own mug that had barely enough wine to cover the bottom. He swirled it, watched the way the liquid climbed the smooth porcelain only to return back to the bottom.

“It started to feel,” Bokuto said abruptly, voice quiet but clear, “like you valued other people above me. You seemed to have time for everyone who wasn’t me.”

Kuroo was watching Bokuto again. Bokuto was still staring into his mug, holding it tightly in both hands. Kuroo didn’t know what to say.

“That’s not how I felt,” he finally settled on.

Bokuto shrugged.

Kuroo tried to reconcile what Bokuto had said with what had happened, but he genuinely couldn’t remember when he might have made it seem like he didn’t care about Bokuto back when they were still talking. He tried to remember specific phone calls or conversations online, but it had been so many years that he couldn’t recall any details. He couldn’t remember if he had sometimes said something that could have been construed as him not wanting to spend time talking to Bokuto.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.”

Bokuto shrugged again. Kuroo turned to look at the empty bottle of wine and wondered if he should go and get the second bottle. He should have bought something stronger than wine.

“I think,” Bokuto said quietly, “I knew you didn’t mean it that way.”

Kuroo turned to look at him, but Bokuto went quiet again. He remained quiet for a long time.

“It was convenient,” he then said. “If I believed that you didn’t care, it was easier to pull away.”

“But why?” Kuroo asked. “Why did you want to pull away?”

Bokuto glanced at him and carefully placed his mug onto the coffee table.

“It was hard,” he said. “It was stressful. And then you said you had no plans to come back to Japan until you’ve finished uni, and…”

Kuroo didn’t think he had said that. He was almost certain he had said he was going to visit in summer, even though it would probably be more beneficial for him to stay and find a job, but time had muddled his memories, so he remained quiet.

“It’s not like you were trying very hard either,” Bokuto said.

“You seemed busy,” Kuroo said.

Bokuto nodded.

“You stopped answering my messages,” Kuroo said.

“You started taking days to answer mine,” Bokuto said.

It was true. Kuroo’s first year in England had been busy and quite stressful with trying to familiarise himself with another country, speaking a language he had never needed to speak so often, learning new vocabulary that school hadn’t taught him but that was necessary to understanding what he was doing, trying to make friends with people who sometimes talked with thick accents that Kuroo couldn’t understand no matter how hard he tried. He had been busy with nearly every aspect of his life, and sometimes he would read Bokuto’s messages, not have the time to respond, then forget until he remembered again.

Kuroo was ashamed to admit that it had taken him quite a while to notice that Bokuto was no longer talking to him. It had hurt, but the shame of not noticing kept him from trying to reach out again.

And that’s how they had drifted away from each other, oceans apart, turning into distant memories that hurt less the older they got.

“I missed you,” Kuroo said, because it was true and because he didn’t know what else to say.

Bokuto looked at him for a moment, then turned away.

“I missed you too,” he said.

Emboldened by the wine, Kuroo shuffled closer to Bokuto, who didn’t move away. But he didn’t turn to look at Kuroo either. Kuroo watched his face, let his eyes roam over the familiar features, stopping to assess how soft Bokuto’s lips still looked. His eyes wandered down, to the lines of Bokuto’s neck, his bicep that was thicker than it had been back then, and Kuroo swallowed. He wanted to feel Bokuto’s arms around himself, holding him in place as Bokuto did sinful things to him, just like back then. Just like they had once been.

But, he knew, they were different people now. Kuroo didn’t know if Bokuto was even single. He desperately hoped that Bokuto was, but that didn’t change the fact that they were different, and they had separated badly, and there was probably still a lot of hurt between them that they would have to work on.

“Can we,” Kuroo asked, voice slightly strangled. “Can we be friends again?”

Bokuto finally turned to look at him properly. He didn’t seem to react to Kuroo now being closer than he had been before.

“You want to?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo nodded.

“And you want to only be friends?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo hesitated. He didn’t know what the correct answer was.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I don’t know, but I want you back in my life.”

Bokuto was quiet for a long time, merely taking in Kuroo’s face. Kuroo couldn’t move. He could hardly breathe, his heart beating madly in his chest as he waited.

“We could try,” Bokuto said, then added, as an afterthought, “Being friends.”

“Yes,” Kuroo said.

Bokuto leaned in, eyes firmly on Kuroo’s own. Kuroo was certain that Bokuto had to hear how loudly his heart was beating.

When their lips met, Kuroo closed his eyes tightly, raising a hand to Bokuto’s cheek. Bokuto’s lips were just as soft as Kuroo had remembered, they were everything Kuroo had remembered and more, and he wanted to keep the moment forever lodged into his memory.

Bokuto pulled away. His eyes were still closed when Kuroo opened his own.

“This is a bad idea,” Bokuto said.

Kuroo wanted to argue but couldn’t.

“It probably is,” he said instead.

“We should,” Bokuto said, then opened his eyes and pulled back a bit more. “We should probably spend some time together first. See if we’re still…”

Kuroo nodded, at a loss for words. His hand was still resting on Bokuto’s cheek.

Bokuto turned to look at the clock and bit his lip.

“I have an early morning tomorrow,” he said, but he looked apologetic, so Kuroo stamped down the small spark of panic that had started to tell him that Bokuto merely wanted an out of the situation. “Give me your number. We can… We can set up a date?”

“Yes,” Kuroo said.

He took a moment longer with his palm pressed onto Bokuto’s cheek, then pulled away and found his phone. He felt giddy watching Bokuto put in his number. He couldn’t keep the giddiness from spreading all over his face as a bright smile. When Bokuto looked at him again, he smiled too.

Kuroo felt light, even as Bokuto was leaving. At the door, Bokuto turned around and pressed a soft kiss onto Kuroo’s lips before going. Kuroo stood there, staring at his closed door, a bit at a loss. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from his return to Japan, but it had not been reconnecting with Bokuto. That had been a vague dream, something he had forbidden himself from imagining, and it had never seemed like a real possibility.

Kuroo fetched his second bottle of wine from the kitchen and sat down on the sofa with it. He had just poured himself a mug, when his phone vibrated. He checked the message and a new, even wider smile took over his face as he read Bokuto’s message.

_welcome home_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been very tired and can only hope that I didn't miss any massive mistakes as I was editing. Or contradict myself too much.
> 
> Also, please, kindly note that I'm not currently open for requests. If I ever am, I post about it on Twitter, but I rarely am.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mean_whale) \- [my writing list](https://mean-whale.dreamwidth.org/557.html) \- [other social media](https://mean-whale.carrd.co)


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